‘Good boy. Now another thing while we’re on the subject. I don’t want you, Mrs O’Malley, within a ten-mile radius of my sister. If I find out you’ve even touched her without Eileen’s express permission, I’ll rip your ugly head off your shoulders and give it to me henchmen to play footie with.’ She smiled at them. ‘Well, I’m glad we had this little chat. It’s good for families to talk and get things sorted, don’t you think? Now if you’ll excuse me, I am a very busy lady and you’ve caused me enough trouble for one day.’

Tommy sat in the Dickens Club in Soho nursing a large scotch. He had earlier met a man called Siddy Trundley, a small Jew who took the bets for the traders in Soho Market and aroundabouts. He was hoping Tommy would come into his business with him so he could have the protection of Tommy’s men and also some extra capital. Tommy had been agreeable, seeing the chance to expand the business and double the turnover. He would give one of his more intelligent minders the job of managing it for him. That way everyone was happy. Now he sat thinking about Briony and the night before. She had gone off with Jonathan and Rupert again and got roaring drunk, coming home in the small hours causing havoc. It was becoming a regular occurrence. He was wondering whether to chance giving her a right hander, as he put it to himself, when her voice startled him out of his reverie.

‘You gonna drink that drink, Tommy, or get engaged to it?’ She sat beside him, smelling of musk and orange flower water. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

‘Really, Briony, what for? To call me a prickless wonder again? Or to try and scratch me eyes out? Only your histrionics are beginning to get on my tits, know what I mean?’

Briony licked her lips and opened her eyes wide. ‘I’m sorry. Honestly, Tom, I’m deeply ashamed of what I did last night.’

He looked into her innocent face and barely controlled his desire to slap her.

‘You’re mugging me off, Bri, and I won’t have it. It’s not funny. Sitting there all wide-eyed and trying to make me laugh won’t work this time. You have been pratting about for a month. You ain’t done a full day’s collar in the houses or the clubs since we took out Olds. Either you sort yourself out or me and you are finished, over with. I mean that.’

Briony sat up straighter in her chair.